With a heavy sigh, Kuroboshi dropped himself onto the throne.
His posture was anything but royal – legs spread, elbows resting on the armrests, chin pressed into his hand.
Two days had passed.
Shuzo was doing a damn good job of avoiding him.
He only spoke when directly spoken to – and even then, as little as possible.
Kuroboshi grimaced as if struck by a toothache.
"Brilliant, Kuro. Truly outstanding."
Things weren't any better with Ayumi, either.
She'd been giving him the same icy silence ever since she found out how badly he'd hurt Shuzo.
Between the two most important people in his life stood a wall of silence and ignorance.
And he – sat right in the middle of it, like a drenched dog.
Kuroboshi ran a hand through his hair.
One sigh later, he closed his eyes.
"Maybe I should just abdicate and start farming tomatoes."
It was a tempting thought.
But before he could dwell on it any further, the loud squeak of the throne room doors tore him out of his self-pity.
With a thunderous bang, Kioto – his far-too-young adviser and self-proclaimed "entertainer" – shoved the doors open.
A familiar wide grin spread across his face.
"By all the gods…"
Kuroboshi muttered under his breath, his emerald eyes narrowing as they took him in:
Kioto.
The angel-faced wonder among guardian vampires.
He stepped into the room wearing his pristine white adviser's uniform,
the golden emblem engraved with G.O.L.D. gleaming proudly on his chest.
A sharply cut white cape hung from his shoulders –
paired with those painfully immaculate boots,
each polished silver buckle reflecting the light just a little too perfectly.
But worse – was his scent.
Unmistakable. Pure.
Fresh white snow-rose tea — almost… soothing.
"Not him too…"
Kuroboshi's jaw tightened; he could barely stand the sight of Kioto –that angelic face framed by white, layered curls.
A picture of disgustingly handsome elegance –
and yet, the glimmer of pure mischief in his eyes betrayed that he was far more demon than angel.
"Well, Your Majesty?"
Kioto began in a tone so exaggeratedly polite that it circled right back to disrespect.
"Did you miss me?"
But he hadn't come alone.
Beside him, he dragged a reluctant boy into the room by the ear.
"What is this supposed to be, Kioto?"
Kuroboshi's expression grew suspicious.
"You're in a damn good mood for once."
A mocking remark followed:
"So, they finally take you seriously as the supreme commander of G.O.L.D.?"
Kuroboshi let out a rough laugh — almost flattering himself – as he watched the curious little scene unfold, his head tilted to the side.
His fingertips drummed idly on the armrest of his throne.
"Oh…" Kioto raised an eyebrow soundlessly.
"Not just that."
A crooked smile crossed his lips as he yanked the boy closer by the collar.
"I caught this little demon brat in the palace garden — peeking under the ladies' skirts."
"By all demons, I did not!" the boy shot back, outraged, as if Kioto had accused him of high treason.
"You liar! I never did that!"
"Ah, I see…" Kuroboshi said dryly.
"And because you're so innocent, I assume you just volunteered to be dragged in here, right?"
The boy pouted, crossed his arms, and muttered – loud enough for everyone to hear,
"Yeah, sure… you dumb old bastard."
Kuroboshi froze.
His gaze sharpened.
His jaw tightened – his fingers dug deep into the armrests of his throne.
The green in his eyes constricted dangerously toward red.
"Dumb. Old. Bastard?"
His thoughts boiled over.
That insolent brat dares…
Yet on the outside, he remained surprisingly calm.
Too calm.
Only his eyes betrayed how close he was to turning the throne room into a place of chaos.
The boy lifted his head – messy white curls falling wildly over the bridge of his nose,
as if he'd just fought his way through a tornado.
"Huh…?"
His body was slick with sweat from struggling against Kioto's grip.
A raw, pine-like scent clung to him – rough and sharp.
His asphalt-gray eyes flashed with defiance.
"What? …What are you all staring at?"
He snapped at the king, his expression twisted like that of an offended street mutt.
Kuroboshi slowly raised his head, his eyes narrowing into thin slits.
His voice — low, quiet, and dangerous.
"You're really asking that?"
His teeth were clenched tight.
Kioto cut in quickly, before the tension could escalate any further.
"You should learn to control that cheeky mouth of yours."
It sounded almost like a well-meant warning.
The demon's eyes widened – he nearly lunged forward, shouting:
"THREAT! That was a threat!"
His voice grew louder, almost cracking as he sucked in a deep breath just to yell even more.
"He's THREATENING Me!"
The temperature in the hall dropped – noticeably.
"ENOUGH!"
Kuroboshi's thunderous voice roared through the throne room like a storm.
The demon fell silent instantly.
His eyes widened — and for the first time, uncertainty crossed his face.
"How old are you?" the king growled, his words sharp as a blade.
But the demon furrowed his brow.
"Eleven. Why?"
Silence.
Kuroboshi leaned back slowly, his eyes never leaving the boy.
Eleven?
Those muscles. That height.
He's got to be kidding me…
The king dragged a hand down his face, exasperated.
"Of course you are. And I'm a tentacle walrus."
"I am eleven!" the curly-haired boy insisted, with so much conviction it was almost laughable.
Kioto shot Kuroboshi a sideways glance.
One look – one thought.
"He looks like he could uproot a tree."
"Tyrant demon, duh," the boy muttered proudly.
The king sighed.
Why?
Why is it always me?
"All right…"
Kuroboshi took a deep breath – a black strand of hair falling over the bridge of his nose.
"What's your name?"
"Donovan, obviously!" the boy burst out, as if it were the dumbest question he'd ever heard.
Kuroboshi just stared at him — motionless.
Worse — judging.
Which was when Kioto, without a word, smacked him lightly on the head.
"Hey!" Donovan protested, rubbing the sore spot.
"You hit me! Is it because I'm a Tyrant demon or what?!"
That was enough.
Kuroboshi leaned forward – slowly.
So slowly that every movement became a threat in itself.
His gaze burned straight into Donovan's face.
"If you keep talking like that…"
A dark smile — not of amusement.
"…then I'll show you…"
His voice dropped lower, deeper.
"…what a true tyrant is."
Donovan opened his mouth – then quietly closed it again.
A bird trembled at the open window… and flew away.
A silence followed – one tense enough that even Kioto cleared his throat and raised a cautious brow.
Kuroboshi didn't break eye contact.
"Let's start over…"
His tongue clicked softly against a fang – restrained, controlled.
Donovan flinched, nodding hesitantly.
"Where do you live?" Kuroboshi finally asked again.
The demon blinked, furrowing his brow as if the question required some deep, cosmic thought.
For far too long.
"Answer enough…"
Cold. Flat. Final.
Kuroboshi rubbed his temples.
"So — a stray demon. Fantastic."
"HEY! I'm not a stray!" Donovan snapped without thinking.
A mistake.
Kuroboshi's brows drew together as he jerked forward.
Donovan squeaked. "S-sorry!"
"You're a disrespectful rat who showed up here just to cause chaos,"
Kuroboshi replied – his tone hard as steel.
"That alone is enough to throw you out—"
He paused, one corner of his mouth twitching upward.
"…or worse."
Donovan's eyes widened, his arrogance melting instantly into raw panic.
Kuroboshi tilted his head, frowning in thought.
"Unless…"
He simply stopped speaking.
Kioto's gaze flicked excitedly between them, eager and intrigued.
"U-unless what?" Donovan stammered, uncertainty flickering in his voice.
But before Kuroboshi could answer, something moved at the edge of his vision.
Shuzo.
The prince peeked cautiously from behind the door —
those large, toxic-green eyes curiously fixed on the scene before him.
But what nearly took Kuroboshi's breath away was the smile on his son's face.
A real one.
Sincere.
No forced lift of the lips.
No polite, practiced grin.
He's… smiling?
Because of this… chaos demon?!
Shuzo quickly pulled back when he realized his father was looking straight at him.
Kuroboshi stared at the spot where his son had disappeared, his heart beating faster than he expected.
He smiled.
Then he turned back to Donovan, eyes narrowing.
Donovan's breathing grew uneven as Kuroboshi slowly straightened –
each movement carrying quiet menace.
The king's lips curved into a wide, dangerous grin.
His fangs flashed – predatory.
"Unless…" the king repeated.
And damn – he looked unfairly good doing it.
"Thank you."
My pleasure.
Even before the sentence was spoken —
it had long been written.